Jobs
by Team Dragon Star
Summary: A series of one-shots in which the characters of the series get jobs and end up really fowling things up.


**AN: This is just a pretty random idea one of us had and I thought it might be worth a few laughs, so you know, here you go.**

**Also, here's a guide to my references. Ztube=YouTube and Satanpedia=Wikipedia**

**Disclaimer: We here at TDS don not own any part of DB, DBZ or DBGT.**

**This story and chapter are brought to you by Loring638**

Vegeta was sitting outside, on the balcony of his house, watching the sunset. _Stupid Trunks and his stupid soccer team. Why can't they just coach themselves? _Vegeta thought to himself. _It's not as if I was wasting all my time lounging around. I was doing something very important: training to beat Kakarot. What could be more important than that? Why would the woman even consider me to do this?_ Vegeta thoughts drifted back to that morning.

* * *

_Ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight, ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, one hundred thousand, _thought Vegeta. He was wearing his standard blue spandex pants, his chest completely bare.. He was just finishing up his warm-up when a familiar face appeared on screen.

"Vegeta!" shouted Bulma.

"What is it woman?" he asked brusquely.

"Come inside for a minute," she commanded.

He just grunted in response.

Pushing off the floor, he was on his feet and walking over to a pile of discarded clothes, incluing a blue, spandex wife-beater. Picking it up, he slid it over his head and pulled it down his body. His white boots and gloves were pulled on soon after. Once dressed, he exited the Gravity Room and entered the rest of the Capsule Corp building to see what the annoying harpy wanted from him. He found her in her lab with her father, who was tinkering away at some bloody who-knows-what.

"Yes?" he spoke up. He resented being the first to speak. He was the Prince of all Saiyans and he deserved to be treated as such!

"I have something I need you to do," she told him without looking up from her work. Strangely, her father seemed to have the extreme urge to get up and get a coffee at that very moment. Vegeta narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"And that would be…?" he asked, nearly spitting with rage.

Bulma pretended not to notice. "Trunks' soccer team needs a new coach since a certain someone broke both the old coach's knees for disrespecting the 'Son of the Prince of all Saiyans'." At this, she looked up at Vegeta with a glare in her eyes.

"…And?" Vegeta asked. Why should he care if the boy's stupid Earth sport needed someone to teach them something they didn't need to know? And why should he care if it's his fault for the team needing a new coach? It's not as if his attack was unprovoked. After all, the man had made Trunks do a whole extra lap around the playground just for having female-colored hair.

"And you have to do it."

"Do what?"

"You have to coach Trunks' soccer team!" she practically screamed at him. She was truly annoyed by his apparent lack of attention.

Vegeta was in such a state of disbelief that he actually laughed a short "Ha!" before saying, "That's pretty funny, but seriously, what did you call me in for?"

Bulma was not amused. She folded her arms across her chest and stared him dead in the eyes. "I'm serious, Vegeta. For the next month, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 3 p.m. to 5 p.m. and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., you will teach Trunks' soccer team how to play soccer and to have fun doing it."

The Saiyan prince was unable to process what his mate was telling him. _She wanted him teach the boy something? Was that it?_

"Okay, I'm getting the message that you want me to teach Trunks something. So what is it?"

Bulma sighed. This was going to take a while. So after a three hour session involving a diagram of Vegeta showing at least nine, ten year old boys —or was it ten, nine year old boys?—and puppets of Vegeta and Trunks supposedly bonding over some foolish Earth sport, the true message Bulma was attempting to convey to her husband finally sunk in.

"Hold on, woman, I think I've got it," said Vegeta. He scrunched up his brow in concentration. He spoke each word calmly and carefully so as to eliminate any trace of uncertainty. "You want me, Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, to coach a bunch of children, one of which is our son, to play a game that I know nor care anything about? Is that it?"

Bulma pulled out a device from her pocket, hit a button on it, and it played the sound of applause. "Good job Vegeta! You've just answered the million dollar question! So here's a million dollars, "she told him as she handed him the money.

He pocketed the money. Later that day, he would blow it all on spandex. "So what exactly do I have to do for this?" he asked her.

"Well first, you need to learn how to actually play the game. Go on the internet and look up Soccer. Now shoo, I've wasted enough time explaining this to you."

"Fine, I'll go." And he did.

* * *

Vegeta sat himself down in front of his computer. He figured he might as well check Ztube for any helpful videos. Besides, he might find another funny cat video. What was that last one thinking? Cats can't play the keyboard. He chuckled quietly to himself.

He typed in the word "Soccer" into the search box. He was dismayed yet excited at the same time. Was he really allowed to throw a brick at the referee if he disagreed with his decision? That would be fun.

Moving on. Ah here was something that looked helpful and undeniable as truth. Oh how he loved Satanpedia!

Wait a minute, why was one player allowed to handle the ball, but not the others? Oh well, he would make sure his son had more privilege than the other children.  
This went on for a few more hours until he decided he needed a break. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a jug of Orange juice and headed out for the balcony.

* * *

_I guess I could have argued my case a bit better, but then the woman would have just yelled at me even more._ He sighed and leant back in his chair. Even the prince of a warrior race had to admit how beautiful the sunset was. There was just something about it that made him thankful for what he had; his wife, his son and a sparring partner who would never give up.

He turned his attention back to the situation at hand. He knew that once she'd made up her mind, there was no shifting Bulma from her course of action, so there was no getting out of it. He briefly considered hiding until the soccer season was over, but that would also mean staying away from his wife for that long, if not longer, so that was out of the question. She'd be sure to bite his head off the second he got back.

He was going to have to go through with this, even if he would rather marry one of the Ginyu Force.

He turned back inside. He would need to get some rest for tomorrow. It was the start of his new job.

* * *

Vegeta awoke with a pounding headache. He really shouldn't have had that last glass of Beetlejuice. Or any glass of it at all.

He peeled himself away from the blue-haired beauty that was his wife and got up to face what was promising to be a truly dreadful day. He walked to the bathroom down the hall to take a shower. Once that was finished, he put on his brown khakis and pink Badman shirt. He then walked downstairs to have over nine thousand bites to eat. About halfway through his breakfast, the boy came strolling into the kitchen wearing that stupid green sweater and brown shorts ensemble like it was any normal day.

"Hey dad," he said distractedly.

Vegeta actually looked up from his food. It wasn't often his son was distracted, especially around food. There was an agreement between Bulma and Vegeta that whenever Bulma wasn't in the room, Vegeta was expected to make sure Trunks had nothing bothering him. Being the caring parent he was, Vegeta proceeded to say, "What the hell is wrong with you, boy?"

"What do you mean, dad?" Trunks asked. He had attempted to sneak something from the fridge back up to his room without his father noticing, but had failed miserably.

"Sit down," ordered Vegeta. When Trunks didn't immediately comply with his father's wishes, Vegeta picked up a piece of toast and threw it faster than the eye could follow right at his son's right ear. This in turn caused Trunks to flinch and drop the thing he had attempted to sneak upstairs. The candy bar bounced a few times before falling still. Vegeta flashed over, picked up the chocolate and shoved it in his pocket. He turned to his son with a glare.

"Why did you have this?" he asked in a cold whisper.

"I…Well….It….um, tastes pretty good?" Trunks stammered out.

Vegeta continued to glare at his son until Trunks was forced to look down out of discomfort. "You are in training and will forgo any food that I deem unfit for you."

Vegeta could tell that his son was about to argue, but decided against it. He could tell because Trunks looked up at his father with a look of disbelief and opened his mouth partway, but then shut it immediately. He then simply said, "Okay dad. We should probably leave now before we're late."

Vegeta looked at the clock. _Damn,_ he thought. _The boy's right. If we don't leave now, we'll have to fly there. And the woman wasn't too happy about that last time. _Vegeta then had a very brief flashback of exiting the gravity chamber to find an empty fridge. The resulting argument had not been pleasant; however, as with all arguments between the two, Bulma had won.

"Alright boy, grab your equipment and anything you think I'll need and get to the car."

"Okay, dad." The boy then sprinted out of the kitchen to do as he was told.

Vegeta turned back to the table to finish his elephant-sized meal. Literally. It was the size of an elephant.

Five minutes later, the house robots rushed in the room the clean up Vegeta's spotless plates and the man himself was walking down stairs to the garage. When the woman he called woman insisted that Vegeta get a driver's license, he insisted that if he absolutely must do this, then he should at least be able to drive a fast car. His shiny red car that strikingly resembled a Ferrari except for the hovering device and lack of wheel unlocked itself automatically once it heard the unique pattern of Vegeta's breathing.

He opened the door to find Trunks already buckled into the passenger seat and the equipment on his lap.

"What took you so long, dad?" Trunks apparently had the nerve to ask.

_Such insolence!_ He thought furiously to himself. _He must get that from his mother. _

He grunted out a short, "Breakfast," and climbed into the car and started the engine.

* * *

The car ride had been uneventful. Trunks had been blabbing in his ear the whole way there, so much so that Vegeta only had to mumble a "Yeah" or an "uh-huh" every five minutes or so. Once they arrived via Trunks's directions, Vegeta stepped out of the car and stopped for a second to take in the soccer field.

It wasn't really anything special. Just a rectangular field of short, yellowish-green grass with a white goalpost at each end. The field was surrounded by trees that looked to be twenty years old at best except for one side where there was a parking lot in which he had parked.

Vegeta turned to his son, who had just stepped out of the car and had all of the equipment in a pile at his feet. "So where are the other children?"

"Oh they won't be here for another couple hours. I thought we could have some individual training that I can get more out of than just a group session." While explaining this, he looked at his father with a hopeful expression.

Vegeta was not amused.

"So you dragged me out here two hours early to do something I didn't absolutely need to do?" he spoke.

Trunks put a big smile on his face and said, "Yup."

Vegeta sighed. _Well, I might as well get this over with, _he thought.

He walked over to his son and took out a ball from the large fabric bag at his feet. He walked towards one of the goalposts and motioned for his son to follow.

Once they reached their destination, Vegeta dropped the ball and held it under his foot. He looked at his son and asked, "What position do you usually take?"

"I'm one of the defenders."

"Well, today you're going to be the goalie. You can use your hands, and it's easier to use your Ki unnoticed," he explained.

"But isn't that cheating?"

Vegeta smiled and pulled a book out of his pocket. The title was "Soccer for Dummies." "I don't believe that there's anything in here against using energy manipulation."

Trunks just shrugged and figured he'd go with it.

"Now boy, power up as much as you can without going super," Vegeta instructed.

Trunks did as he was told.

* * *

A couple hours later, Vegeta had just finished off his special training with Trunks when the other children arrived in one SUV. They all piled out of the vehicle and waved hello to Trunks. The driver of the car exited along with the children and walked over to Vegeta. He was about Vegeta's height, unshaven beard, mullet, red jacket and blue jeans. "So you're the new coach?" he asked when he has five feet away.

"That's right."

"I'll be watchin' this 'ere practice today to make sure there ain't no mischief about you," the man informed Vegeta.

"Whatever, fine. Just go away and don't disturb me."

The man shot a glare full of venom towards Vegeta and walked away.

Unknown to Vegeta, while the two men had been talking, the children had assembled around Vegeta, so it was a bit of a shock to be surrounded by nine or ten children, all staring up at him with expectant eyes.

"So…um…" Vegeta was suddenly nervous. He wasn't used to being depended on. "Split into two teams and play." They all seemed excited to do as they were told.

From what Vegeta overheard from their babbling, their old coach never let them start off with a game. Vegeta spotted his son and locked eyes with him. He gave him a nod. Trunks made his way directly to the goalpost. As soon as the other boys were done deciding who would go where, they started the game. After a few seconds of the ball being passed back and forth, Vegeta started to grow bored. Vegeta signaled to Trunks. At that point, the ball flew up from the ground and lightly tapped the boy who was kicking it on the forehead. The boy then broke down in tears.

The rest of the practice session went on like this; mysterious things happening, causing the boys minimal amounts of pain, causing them to sob uncontrollably.

Eventually, all of the other children were piled in the SUV with puffy eyes, runny noses and microscopic red marks from their accidents. The driver was not pleased. He had out his cell phone because his agreement with the other parents was that whoever drove the kids that day had to report all injuries to their children. The children were now informing their parents that they wanted to quit soccer forever. The driver shot one last dirty look at Vegeta before driving away.

As soon as the vehicle was out of sight, Vegeta turned to Trunks and said, "Well that worked out quite nicely." He handed Trunks the chocolate he had confiscated earlier.

Trunks eagerly tore the sweet from his father's hand. He was glad his plan had worked out.

* * *

_One hour and fifty-nine minutes earlier…_

"No No No! You need to be more aggressive! Threaten him!" Vegeta towered over his son.

"But what if I really did step on his toe and need to apologize?"

The father and son duo had been going through a scenario in which a boy of the opposite team was trying to score against Trunks.

"That doesn't matter! As long as he's the one who goes home crying!"

Trunks sighed and tried to use his head. He knew his father hadn't exactly signed up for this job, but he also knew that if forced to continue, he would eventually blow something up, possibly in front of the other children. He suddenly had a thought. He turned to his father.

"Hey dad."

"What is it?!" he nearly screamed.

"You obviously don't want to be here, and honestly, neither do I. Mom just made me sign up so I could meet some kids my age besides Goten. So here's the deal, we mess with the other kids, just enough to get them to quit so you can get back to training and I can get back to my candy."

Vegeta looked at his son in amazement. "That's actually a pretty good idea, Trunks."

* * *

_Present time…_

They both got back in the car and drove home, happy that this ordeal was over.


End file.
